Dripping Sword
by HetaNet
Summary: There are three types of people in this tale: Those who are trying to stop the battle, those who are trying to prolong the battle, and those who are lost in the midst of confusion… USUK, SpaMano, GiriPan, GerIta, DenNor, RoChu, and a bunch of others.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: First of all, this story will end in a happy ending. I hate bad endings, and really, I don't like bittersweet (only when I am depressed, ha ha).

I would have posted this under my own penname, but nah, I hate it that this account doesn't have anything under its stories.

So YAHOO for that!

Also, this is like the penultimate chapter, so this story technically starts at ze end.

And… Check out this account's profile for more info on what HetaNet is! X3

Enjoy. :)

* * *

_There are three types of people in this tale: _

_Those who are trying to stop the battle, those who are trying to prolong the battle, and those who are lost in the midst of confusion…_

_**Dripping Sword: Chapter 1**_

_Drip drop_ were the whispers that filled the dark void, with only a white circular floor visible in the middle. A light shone on the circular ground, making two figures visible on them. Both of these figures were bent over, clutching their bleeding arms. One of the figures finally gasped out an audible pant, and then a whimper.

A cruel laughter filled the whole void, making various colours appear and disappear.

_**He **_was laughing at those two figures for fighting, for seeking...

…survival.

"Your time is almost up." _**He**_ said after laughing, smiling in a twisted manner. This third person was hidden safely into the darkness. What a lame coward he can be, not showing up himself in front of the other two.

The two figures looked up, both tired from the battle, tired from the warped reality they were trapped in. They were tired from shedding their friends and family's warm red blood. They were tired from shedding each other's blood.

"Kirkland-san…" One of the figures said weakly. This person staggered up to his feet with the help of his katana.

The other figure merely raised his head again, having snapped it down after listening to that earlier voice. His emerald eyes were bloodshot from tears, lack of sleep, and just… exhaustion. He parted his dry lips open in a small choked laugh, and then smiled sarcastically.

"We are back to calling each other by our names? I liked 'filthy Englishman' better, _**Honda-san**_." The British blond said that last part mockingly, hatred filling his gaze as he looked at the Japanese man he once called "friend".

The other island country simply stayed silent. He staggered over to England, katana gripped loosely in hand. Arthur took ahold of his sword, ready to defend himself.

He was so close to losing the fight… His legs were weak. He could barely see. He had lost a lot of blood, and he could have sworn he broke a rib or two or even more. He took multiple shots from Switzerland's gun. He had taken on the mighty Russia. He had taken on China again.

It had been a miracle of how he had managed to put up a fight against Japan.

But he kept fighting. If he was going to join America, then…

…so be it.

England braced himself for an attack, closing his eyes as he rose his sword up, still sitting down on the floor. He was so close to death, yet… He felt more alive than he had ever felt before.

* * *

"_England-kun?"_

_England turned around, and then smiled slightly. It was only Japan. Good. Had it been that bloody frog…_

"_Yes, Japan? What is it?" He asked, stopping in his walking. Japan stopped as well, grateful for not having to walk more. The Japanese country gave him a large paper envelope._

"_Italy-kun invited you to his party. Sumimasen, but could you give this-" He took out another two paper envelopes. "-to America-san and France-san if you see them? I have to go now." He turned around and began to run off. "Tell them that they are invited to Italy-kun's party as well! The details are in there!"_

_England looked as Japan finally disappeared, mildly confused, and looked down at the envelopes._

"… _I won't give these to those gits. I am just not going to Italy's party. I don't need to go or be a measly messenger."_

_The stubborn gentleman began to walk again and soon found a garbage can. He looked down at the envelopes with the invitations in them once again, thinking about them._

"_F-Fine! I will go, and m-make sure they go!"_

* * *

Had England only rejected the invitation... Had he only thrown them away like he had been about to…

Had he only done that…

He would have lost himself in a certain country's smile one more time, many more times…

Actually, that was the image that chose to appear in his head. England almost laughed, feeling a strange happiness. However, he could not help but allow tears to cascade from his cheeks.

He was really about to cease to exist.

He had failed.

"_**Kill me**_."

England opened his eyes wide, shocked. The cruel laughter that had been filling the room merrily suddenly stopped.

A deafening silence filled the entire room. England was looking at Japan, who was holding out his katana to him. Japan had a contorted expression, his eyes set in determination. He panted out a breath, and then screamed,

"Arthur, didn't you hear me!? KILL ME! _**SAVE YOURSELF**_!"

Arthur let his head fall… He did not want to face Kiku, for he was ashamed. His friend was trying to sacrifice himself.

"NO!"

Both Arthur and Kiku widened their eyes as they realized that it was _**he**_ who had spoken.

"DON'T DO THAT!"

Veneziano looked desperate as he screamed into the microphone. His cold eyes were back to being the same warm ones that he usually had.

However, it did not stop the island country. Kiku could see hesitation in not Feliciano… But Arthur. He could see that he would not kill him. So… Kiku smiled at Arthur, and said softly, "Time to join Heracles-kun, hai…"

Arthur snapped his head up, shocked. "Wait, no, Kiku! Don't you dare-"

"Get Alfred back." Kiku murmured, and raised the katana high up in the air. The brave warrior ignored the screams of Italy and England, both of them desperately trying to stop him. England was trying to stand up to take the katana away, but then…

As swift as a shooting star, and as proudly as a samurai that would not allow himself to fall in the hands of the enemy, the Japanese country brought it down, the tip heading towards his chest.

"_**JAPAN**_!"

_Clink_.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thank you very much for the reviews, follows, and favourites. Enjoy this next short chapter. I may update every two days, more if it is a fight scene, etc.

And yay, figured out a way to update through my mobile! X3

Anyway, this story will be from four points of view: My point of view as a narrator. Then the Angel Shocker, The Gentleman, and finally the Fighter. Try to guess who they are, although the Angel Shocker is revealed here, and the Gentleman is kinda obvious. X3

Some of these will be letters and recordings. The Fighter will most likely use a recorder, but maybe the other two will.

* * *

_**Dripping Sword: Chapter 2**_

**_The Angel Shocker_**

_The first type of person is the one that wants to stop the battle. Scared as the rest, this individual steps up with more knowledge than the other two types. Because of this knowledge, he may bear mo_re_ mental pain... What should I do? Why didn't I do anything? These are some questions that go through his head_.

* * *

Have you ever seen a rotten tomato? It's sticky, mushy, and very bitter. It barely has any of the sweetness and delicious taste of the tomato anymore.

You could probably compare a person to a tomato. It grows under the care of some bastard, or me, then it has some chances of either living or surviving, just like a person does.

Anyone can squish a tomato as anyone can kill a person. The redness of the juice that follows after can maybe be compared to the red and warm blood too.

Hell, if you are like the wine bastard, you can pretty well argue that they both 'taste like l'amour'. Please note that the writing here is a bit shaky and it's because I shuddered. Who wouldn't shudder because of that fucking pervert? Dammit.

Anyway, I just wanted to write this because I, for one, have a fucking right to, and two, someone needs to find it. I am sure you will, Spain.

Don't get all excited, I can practically see your beau- (This part "beau" is crossed out.) stupid smile, you jerk.

Now read on. This is how the damn story began.

It all began with the creepy ass new boss of mine and that fucking idiot no good son of a bitch what the hell was that piece of crap thinking

Dammit, now I have to write with pencil. Hopefully it is not erased.

Anyway, I will just start when Italy had a new boss. Yes, this is when everything began to... It was just so damn strange.

Veneziano had been really happy at first. He would go and say, "Ciao!" to him in every possible moment that he could. The new boss was peculiar. Yes, let's start with describing this bastard.

His appearance was of a short and rather old man. He seemed like a kind nonno. He had his eyes closed, much like Veneziano, most of the time. He rarely talked and just laughed randomly. It was creepy as hell, and it caused shivers to run down my spine. I should have realised something was wrong when Veneziano began to have 'private meetings' with him.

Weeks passed by, and soon, he didn't come to my room as often. I thought then, 'Finally, that little cheese-stinking fratello of mine got the point!'

Then, he began to be at home more often. He normally went with the macho potato lover to whine and bitch to him, whatever he did.

I thought, 'Finally, he got the point!'

I don't have much time!

Okay, to make it quicker, he began to act really weird. I was an idiota not to notice until he told me in almost a hoarse voice, "Let's throw a party, fratello. To celebrate our birthday."

I thought nothing of it. He probably missed the potato bastard, I had figured. But no... NO!

_I am such a fucking idiota! I could have stopped it! I could have done something._

(The part above in italics is crossed out. )

The whole time, they were plotting to get us into the mess we are in. You know already what happened: we all had a fucking good time and then suddenly, the lights went off.

Just in case you were sprayed with that fucking memory eraser, then here was what Veneziano said, "You must cross the roads and fight whoever you encounter. If you refuse, you'll be killed on the spot and will not be allowed to continue. Whoever stands at the end is allowed to revive a fallen country. Don't try breaking through the walls, because there aren't any. Good luck!"

Let me add some things I found during my way. One, is a fucking mirrors place. You'll think you've gone back to the past. The deeper your past, the more it will fucking hurt.

That's why... I told you to not leave me for the ships when I was little, dammit! All of that can torture you! So it's all your fault!

Then, I encountered the fucking garden with red roses.

They are, surprisingly, healers and you can use them to heal your wounds and even eat them. So yeah, do like me and don't go through the path that says, "Shortcut". I heard someone scream...

Whatever. Then, jerk, just make sure that you are using your brain.

And... Don't ask me how to get out of killing someone. I just killed Seborga... He was the first one I had to

(There are smudges here, as if drops of water had suddenly began to fall. The next part here is written really sloppy, as if the Angel had rushed to run off from something...)

DON'T DIE BASTARD.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Gracias for the support! I guess I can respond to reviews here:

To Wierdo111, Hopefully everything will be explained here. The Gentleman was frustrated too.

To Greece's Kitty, Don't hate Italy. X3 You will see what is going on soon. There is always a little something going on in a thriller/suspense fic.

To Unreasonable White, Eh... I dunno. Sincerely speaking, I haven't really read or watched the book. I only have heard of the summary of the Hunger Games. I thought that had to do with fighting for food and starvation...?

I am so sowwy! D: Yeah, I should add some humour into this later. I can do that! *Determined*

To idioticwrites, Yosh, the next chapter is here~.

Have fun with it. It's a fight scene. X3

* * *

_**Dripping Sword: Chapter 3**_

_**The Gentleman**_

_Then, there is the second type. This person is confused about what to do, for he knows that a country _can _**not**__revive if the country they died in or an ally refuses to revive them._

_He does not know what to choose; fight for not only his life, but his love's life or stand strong, hoping the rest will stop fighting too._

* * *

[_**Start of the recording**_]

_The recording sounds unclear almost as if someone was rubbing a candy wrapper on the top of the speaker. Footsteps resounding can be heard and they are slow, almost as if the person was creeping to scare someone. A sigh and a little gasp is heard, and then a bit of more unclear movement._

_Suddenly, the movement becomes calmer, and the recording sounds clearer._

* * *

It is about time that someone told you exactly what happened, yes? It is quite long, and I suggest that you sit back, take a cuppa, and relax. I am sorry for the quality of the recording. I am not in my best condition now.

First of all, please do not make fun of my voice. This goes to you, Spain, America, and frog face. I am quite tired. Now, our tale begins in a simple Italian party. Japan had come to me early today to give me some invitations, and asked politely for me to pass two other invitations to America and France. He, unlike some morons, is very kind. After this, I went to his party, Flying Mint Bunny coming with me as well as my unicorn. We all were enjoying this party very much, although something was off.

The oldest Italian brother was the only one there for most of the party. He seemed worried, almost as if something was bothering him. I approached him, and complimented him in setting a section for drinks, including black tea, which was my favourite.

He merely gave me a small smile, and said, "Grazie, you jerk." I was thrown off by that, but it looked like he spoke like that to everyone, so I disregarded my sudden indignant feeling.

"Where is your brother? I thought he was the host of this party too." I asked, taking a sip of my glass of water. His eyes lowered.

"I don't know."

It was strange.

"Well, that's unfortunate. I wanted to compliment him as well." I responded in an unconvincing way. He did not notice, however, and began to say something. Before I knew it, we had begun a conversation…

Then, the lights went out.

I was confused. I could hear some of these morons start making booing and mooing sounds, and then some giggles. It was truly immature of them.

Then, a big light flickered in the middle of the ballroom. Everyone stared as a small television made its way there.

"Ciao, you guys!"

I was surprised, but I was also annoyed. Why would this be necessary? Italy could have greeted us in some other way.

* * *

_A sigh can be heard, and then a complete stop of his footsteps is done._

* * *

This is one of the entrances… Hmm… Oh, right. I have to continue!

Well, after this, he began to say something unsettling…

"I got you all here so you can die!"

I was s-shocked. The whole room roared with laughter, taking North Italy's statement as a mere joke but… I was not laughing, and neither was Germany or South Italy.

"What are you saying, you cheese stinking jerk!?" Romano said startled, and Spain placed a hand on his shoulder laughing.

"Ita-chan is not serious." He said confidently. I smiled a little in relief, I will admit, but then…

"I was not joking. You can't revive in my place unless I say so!"

Everyone laughed even more. I looked at Japan, who was in front of me. He was stoic as always, however, even his hand was trembling a bit.

I was confused.

Then, the light in the middle with the television was gone. The floor beneath was then gone too, and I fell… I think I fell… I shouted out in surprise as many did. I was confused, but not scared. No, I rarely get scared. I solely wanted to know what was happening.

When I opened my eyes next, and I stopped screaming, I could see that I was in a road. It was almost out a story book. Perhaps similar to one of those that I often read to America or Hong Kong. It was brightly coloured. The bushes were a rosy pink, and the flowers a deep shade of green. There was no sky, only… darkness. It was just a black background with no soul in sight. I could only hear my breathing.

I thought nothing of it. It was rubbish in my opinion. I began to walk through the red road, not noticing the way that it stained my shoes until later.

I figured out that it was blood.

I kept walking. Somehow there was light even though there was no source of it. It was strange. But I kept going.

I thought that there would be a good explanation for this as I walked for what seemed like hours.

Then, I saw something on the floor.

It was a letter.

It was for Spain, apparently… I must say, it is almost romantic- Eh?

* * *

_There is more static, almost as if the person holding it was startled._

* * *

Italy said that!? So those green flowers were…

Bloody hell. I must have lost part of my memory. This is horrible… Thank you, South Italy. I will leave this note right here, and hope that the dago finds it… There.

_The recording sounds calmer. The person holding it may have stopped moving._

I cannot fathom what is going on in that Italian's head. Why would he do all of this?

_A yawn can be heard._

Pardon. I am tired and I have not found anyone yet. I am not sure if I should be thankful that I have not fought anyone or frustrated that I have not found anyone. Supposedly, South Italy-

* * *

_A brief THUD is heard. Then, a groan commences to resound through the recording. The person may have crashed into something._

* * *

Oh? It seems that it is a door. I wonder…

* * *

[_**Beep. End of Recording.]**_

* * *

...

...

...

England fell over, barely being able to stop himself from falling on his face. The Briton looked up and was still slightly shocked about the door he had come across had led him to fall through a dark pit… again.

He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the fog that surrounded the area. He could barely see anything of what could be across the white and mysterious fog. It was dead silent as well. He was not afraid, however, and decided to walk through. He stood up, yawning, and began to make his way through.

Abruptly, he crashed into something. No, someone...

"You are my first opponent, da?" A cheery voice said, and England jumped back, startled.

"Russia!?" He exclaimed, and then tried to see him through the fog. He couldn't though...

"Try using those annoying glasses. I got a pair from Estonia." Russia advised, smiling at him. England took out his reading glasses and then sighed in relief as the fog appeared to be less defined and easier to see through it. He was surprised.

"Thank you, Russia."

"Are you ready for fight?"

"Why, yes, just-" England gave him a glare. "I am not fighting you!"

"Why not, da? It is responsibility." Russia replied, looking to the side. England wondered what he was looking at, so he turned his head to the left too…

A big television screen was set against what it looked like to be a wall. In the screen, one could see Italy, smiling at them innocently.

However, what stood out more was the background. China and America were hanging upside down, tied to the bottom of a huge metal platform. Two ropes were holding the platform up with the countries hanging there.

If the ropes were to disappear, then the two countries would fall. Their heads would come down first, possibly killing them with the impact. But the metal platform would definitely finish them off by crushing them, like a cockroach being stepped on by a shoe.

England looked horrified as he realized that. "You bloody bastard, no good son of a-"

"Ciao, England!" Italy chirped. "Just fight against each other, and then the two will be freed, si?"

England remembered South Italy's letter. '_So that's why he had to kill Seborga. South Italy may have had someone important hanging there as well to save, and had to kill him off. What a sick bastard!_'

"Stop trying to fight Italy." Russia said calmly, swinging his pipe. "You are fighting me. To save China, da." He said, and England could have sworn he saw a bit of frustration pass through those purple eyes.

England looked back at the screen. He could see America hanging from there. It looked like he was asleep, just like China was. The gentleman gritted his teeth as he realized he could not rely on America to save himself. It's not like he could say, "Oh, jolly, he will revive later."

He knew exactly that it did not work that way. The country in which the fallen nation died in had to choose whether he wanted people to revive or not in less than one day. After that day was gone and if the country had not chosen… The fallen nation was lost too.

And it looked like Italy would definitely choose to kill them off. If China or America were to die, he would not try to revive them. England was frustrated.

But most of all, he was confused. What was going on? Why? How?

"I-I am n-not fighting, Russia." England stated, shakily tearing away his eyes from the screen. '_I am sorry, America. We should save the rest too… What the bloody hell am I thinking!?_'

England drew out his wand. "Changed my mind, Russia. Let's go!"

Russia nodded as Italy laughed. They would listen to Italy's laugh often from that point and on.

It would fill their heads for a good decade.

"Go then! Fight for your amore, England." Italy remarked, smiling. "Ve~! This is so exciting!"

"Sick bastard." Russia and England said at the same time, and then England smirked. He took his wand and made a quick spell.

"It looks like this is a great opportunity to summon all the magic that I had reserved. I did not want to use it all at first because my body is not able to resist it all but… I am sure I can try it, even if my body explodes now!" England said smiling as a white light surrounded him.

Russia was confused. He did not get what England said at all. But whatever, he would see when England stopped playing around, in his opinion.

The bright light soon turned a shade of green and then a shade of red. Italy and Russia looked at the light curiously. What was he trying to do?

An arrogant laugh filled the void and then England stepped out of the light, making it all disappear. He was holding up a sword. It had a star on it, which looked eerily similar to the one on his wand.

England looked victorious, but also extremely tired, as if he were struggling with the powerful magic that was radiating. "Let's do... This..." He panted, smiling.

Russia smiled and closed his eyes. "That is not going to help. You are weaker no-" He was interrupted by a sudden kick to his stomach, sending him towards the wall.

England smiled and took deep breaths, trying to recover. He was clearly not able to resist all of his power. Russia had his back against the wall now. He was wincing in pain.

_'So he wants to play rough, da? I will show him that magic is not enough to kill.'_

Russia smiled cheerfully. "How about I break your bones?"

"Just try it, arsehole!"

Russia took his pipe and ran towards England swiftly, surprising the shorter one. Russia was fast! Before England could run, his sword had to come up to stop the pipe from destroying his head. Both countries were now struggling, one of them trying to bring it down. Russia had to smile. England looked desperate and he also looked like he would lose. Why? His arms were shaking. He was not going to hold out long...

"You are losing battle." Russia said cheerfully. "You are not going to resist this..."

"Wh- Uh!" England was kicked by Russia in the stomach. It was revenge for earlier, obviously. However, Russia made sure that England did not fly off like he did. He grabbed England's neck with his free hand and began to choke him. At the same time, the Russian nation was still trying to bring the pipe down and was still trying to overpower the sword.

England turned blue, losing his breathing as he tried to pull Russia's hand away from his neck with his free hand. His occupied hand was still on the sword, trying to overpower the pipe.

The gentleman could feel his eyesight become blurry. He was about to pass out from the force that Russia still had over him.

_'Shite... If I don't do anything, the bloody arsehole will win. And I might not be able to-'_ An image of Sealand and Hong Kong appeared on his head_. 'Are they alright!? Are they here!?' _

Russia's eyes became wide as England, shaking, took Russia's hand away. He was thinking but even so, he was still fighting.

_'I cannot die here. Sealand, Hong Kong, America, Australia, India...'_ England raised his fist and punched Russia in the face, hard. This was enough to get Russia away from him.

Russia was stunned. He had used all of his strength in choking England and the island nation had managed to push him off. The Brit winced. "I will get rid of some magic, Flying Mint... Bunny. Take some until I can control it all."

Russia wondered if England had gone crazy. But it was too soon for him to have gone crazy! It was their first fight!

England looked more relaxed as some magic was being drained out of him. He smiled and then gave a shaky thumbs-up. "Good."

The gentleman laughed. "I made a little miscalculation, but now I am sure I can take you on!" England said arrogantly as he raised his sword and then directed it at Russia's chest.

Russia stopped the sword with his pipe and smiled smugly. This was short-lived, however, as England made a whole flip over him. To his horror and to England's victory, the Brit merely brought his foot back halfway through the flip, kicking Russia on the back of his head, and rendering him unconscious.

This epic move did not stop England from falling flat on his face afterwards. The gentleman groaned. His face was now a bright red from the impact.

He looked up curiously as Italy laughed some more. "Ve~! Good job, England!" He praised, smiling. Then the Italian opened his eyes.

"Now… Kill him off."

England widened his eyes as he looked at Russia. "But I defeated him already!" He protested. He was not going to kill anyone!

He was not going to…

"Cut the ropes." Italy ordered. "America and China can take his place, si?"

England could hear a shriek and then a "You _idiota!_ How dare you!?"

This made England even more confused. What was going on in there that the screen was not showing? Italy looked annoyed.

"Ve~, the only reason that you are still alive is so that people can fight for you. You will die soon though." He mused, and then smirked at England.

"What do you say, England? Do you want to get rid of America?"

England gritted his teeth. This was not going to be easy but…. He took his sword and brought it up on top of Russia. His emerald eyes looked sad as he brought it down and-

"_Stiamo andando avere bisogno di lui, Italia_." A voice said suddenly. Italy looked afraid for a split moment before smiling, almost naturally like he always did. It was as if he was victorious about something. England could not understand why.

"Si. Russia will live for a little while!" He placed a hand on a switch.

"Ciao, England!" He said as everything went dark once more, leaving England more confused than ever before.

But he was also slightly relieved. He did not have to kill anyone. He fell through the void, sure that he was going to win the next one without fighting. Maybe he would find Japan or some other nation with a sense of logic. Then they could try to team up to think of a plan.

At least, while the Gentleman was lost in the midst of confusion, he had hope.


End file.
